


Mischief Mismanaged

by Alexis_Rockford



Series: Fictober 2019: Two Heads Are Better Than One [1]
Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Gen, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Kid Loki and Kid Thor (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Mischief, One Shot, Potions Accident, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Stand Alone, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-24 18:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20710751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Rockford/pseuds/Alexis_Rockford
Summary: Loki is tired of his older brother being such a bossy goodie-two-shoes, so he convinces him to join him in a little mischief - with predictably disastrous results. But will Thor ever realise that behind Loki's trickery hides a broken heart?This ficlet was written in response to the Fictober prompt for October 1, 2019: “It will be fun, trust me.”





	Mischief Mismanaged

“Come now, Brother,” Loki’s brilliant blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “We aren’t going to _hurt_ Volstagg. Much.”

Thor surveyed his brother doubtfully. “I don’t know,” he hedged, shifting his weight from one enormous booted foot to another.

“It will be fun,” Loki coaxed, his Silvertongue dripping with allure. “Trust me.”

Thor’s ears perked at the familiar phrase. Whenever Loki uttered it, trouble soon followed, and Thor inevitably found himself in the middle of it. “Not this time, Loki,” he insisted with a stubborn forward thrust of his chin.

Loki’s jaw flexed, the only sign that his mood was beginning to darken at his brother’s reticence. “As you wish,” he conceded with a bow. “I was only thinking of Sif…”

Thor felt his teeth clench for a moment before replying. He hated that he was playing right into Loki’s hand by reacting to his obvious bait. “What about her?” he asked with what he hoped was disinterest.

“You know how vexed she became after her expulsion from Warriors Three’s campaign this afternoon.” Loki tutted in apparent sympathy. “I thought perhaps this might be a gentle way to avenge her wounded honor.”

Thor’s blood began to heat as he recalled how devastated his best friend had been by her exclusion. “To think she should be forbidden merely because she is a woman.”

“Pray do not spend your wrath on me, I am on your side,” Loki placed a consoling hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Father can be so old-fashioned at times.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Thor grumbled.

“And no one laughed more merrily at her misfortune than Volstagg,” Loki pointed out none-too-subtly.

“Fine.” Thor backed away from Loki who was grinning with delight at his brother’s inevitable capitulation. “But can’t you accomplish this chicanery on your own?”

“Regrettably, no,” he replied with a frown. “He would never deign to let me sit beside him at the feast. However, I suffered much of the toil already.” He reached into his cape and withdrew a small phial of pale pink liquid. “All you need do is tip it into his goblet.”

“What is it?” Thor asked with a frown. He pinched the glass bottle between his large fingers and sloshed the potion back and forth suspiciously.

“Never you mind,” Loki returned with a smirk. “The less you know, the easier it will be for you to feign ignorance.”

“Before I do this,” Thor said, whisking the bottle into the leather pouch at his waist, “let me state for the record that I think that this is a terrible idea, and I’m only doing this for Sif.”

“But of course.”

***************

“Someone please make him stop!” moaned Thor.

Volstagg had been crying into his dinner plate for three hours, wailing even more loudly whenever someone tried to whisk it away from him. “Life is meaningless!” he bawled, blowing his nose on a napkin. Fandral, who sat on his left, wore an uncomfortable grimace on his usually smiling face. He had held the expression so long that his mustache had begun to droop. Hogun sat on his right with arms crossed and eyebrows knit in an unamused scowl. Sif seemed torn between pity for him and for herself for having to endure such a cacophony. The only one who was the least bit contented with the situation was Loki, but even his smug smile had begun to falter.

“What in Hel did you put into that potion, Loki?” Thor continued, rubbing his temples. “The tears of a broken-hearted waif who hasn’t known a single night’s respite in his life?”

Loki’s mouth continued to twitch, and his eyes fell to his lap as though Thor’s sarcasm might have struck closer to home than he would have liked. “You were supposed to tip it in, not dump the whole bloody thing.”

“You did this?” Sif rose and unsheathed her sword. Before Loki could react, she had its blade pressed against his pale neck.

“Technically, it was Thor who tainted his wine,” he rasped, eyeing the flash of silver beneath his chin.

Sif released the sword and rounded on the god of thunder. “How disappointing. I would anticipate a jest in such poor taste from Loki, but you…” She closed her eyes, looking as though she had suffered a betrayal of the acutest kind. “I expect better from you.” She turned back to Loki, who had tried to sneak out of the room during the interim. “There is an antidote.” It was a statement, not a question. Loki nodded and quickly handed it to her.

“But I did this for you,” Thor insisted, reaching out a beseeching hand. “Loki convinced me it would make you happy after the way Volstagg mocked you.”

Sif made a noise of irritation deep in her throat. “As if that trickster would have the slightest notion how to increase a woman’s felicity.” She tossed her hair back before dumping the antidote into Volstagg’s cup. He continued to sniffle loudly until she was able to gently cajole him into drinking it. “Do you want to know what makes me happy? Kindness, gentleness. Not tricks and base revenge.” She turned her steely glare to Loki. “Take note, Silvertongue. That is, if you ever care to win a lady’s affections.”

Thor could tell by the twin spots of crimson on Loki’s high cheekbones that he was well and truly chastened. “Sif,” he began softly. “Pray do not be so hard on my brother. After all, he has not had much experience conversing with the opposite sex.”

Loki put his face in his hands. “Not helping,” he muttered.

Just then, Volstagg began to bluster. “Where am I, what’s going on? Where is my dinner?” Thor hurried over to the table to help the other Warriors calm their befuddled friend.

Instead of immediately joining them, Sif turned to appraise the god of mischief for a moment. “I’m not sure how I know this,” she said softly, “but I believe that you truly did wish to repay Volstagg for his ill behaviour earlier. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you fancied me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped, but his voice wavered.

In that moment, Sif’s hard expression softened. She gently laced her fingers with his and tugged his left palm away from his face. Then, rising on tiptoe, she gently pressed her lips to the high curve of his cheekbone. “I’m flattered,” she said with the smallest of smiles, “but I’m afraid my heart already belongs to someone else.” She gazed wistfully over her shoulders to where Thor was heaping food onto Volstagg’s plate over his uproarious protestations.

Loki swallowed, a sound that seemed painfully loud to his own ears. “Of course it does,” he murmured in a flat tone. His eyes flickered to hers for a second, but could not bear the pity he saw there.

“Loki,” she began, but he shook his head and slowly began to walk away. Sif only hesitated a moment before returning to Thor and the Warriors.

Loki wandered outside the castle gates, kicking small pebbles with the toes of his boots. He leaned against a nearby column and gazed steadfastly into the setting sun. Naturally, she preferred _Thor_. _Everyone_ did. They were both princes, both reasonably attractive, and yet the ladies always desired Thor and not him. Most of the time, the girl in question was silly or not Loki’s type, but it stung nonetheless. True, Loki did not display the desirable traits of a soldier, but surely _someone_ out there would rather have a man with his intelligence and finesse. In addition, Thor was heir to the throne and would have to be more selective when choosing the next queen of Asgard. Out of the two of them, Loki was the more likely to be able to marry as he pleased. With this in mind, the women should be lining up at his door. Somehow, none of that ever mattered. It was _always_ Thor. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to change that.

“How now, Brother?” came a soft voice behind him.

Loki refused to give him the satisfaction of turning around. The last thing he wanted was for Thor to see the tears welling in his eyes. “Oh, you know me,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I’m fine. I always am.”

“That was a near thing,” Thor continued, coming up beside him. “I thought for a moment that Sif was going to have your head.”

“For a moment,” he returned, “so did I.”

Thor grinned and clapped a gigantic hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Clearly we both have much to learn about women.”

Loki was about to agree, when sudden inspiration struck him. Concentrating all of his magic, he transformed into the feminine version of himself. “Speak for yourself, Brother,” he purred in a slightly higher voice.

Thor stumbled backwards as Loki’s frame shrank beneath his grip. When he realised what had happened, he let out a mighty roar of a laugh. “Well, that makes two things at which you are more practised than I.”

Lady Loki turned to him and batted her luminous blue eyes. “And pray, what is the other?”

Thor grinned and punched his sister lightly in the arm. “Mischief, of course.”

Thinking back on Thor’s recent disastrous attempt at trickery, she had to agree. Yet, even as she relished the thought, she felt a frown tug at the corners of her mouth. She forced a smile instead. It was no use airing her petty complaints to her brother. Thor already thought her weak, soft even. And despite Thor’s general ignorance, he was right about one thing. “Verily, Brother,” she replied with a chuckle, “I am and always will be the undisputed god of mischief.” 


End file.
